Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Best Served Cold	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Sirius Views: 12564 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters, nor am I making any money off of it. It's called FANfiction because I DON'T own it, right? Right. Good that we're clear.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-Epilogue
- 17
- 18
- 19
Chapter
18

Once the chaos was over and they'd begun burying the dead, Harry had
begged Ron to help him retrieve Snape's body. He had never liked the
man much, but he owed him that much at least. They were both in a
good deal of shock.

Ron couldn't bring himself to believe that Fred was really dead, and
Harry was so exhausted that whispers of 'Sirius' and 'missing' hardly
made their way past the haze of half-sleep clouding his mind. All he
knew was that if he didn't go get Snape, no one was likely to get all
the way to the Shrieking Shack for days, and he owed the man at least
a proper burial. At least.

“Bloody hell...” Ron gasped when they stumbled across the
strangest scene in history. Sirius looked up blearily from where
he'd dozed off against Snape's bare torso, clad only in a corset, a
torn up chemise and a pair of bloomers with shin-high boots, black
smudges around his eyes that streaked down his face, and Snape
beneath him – mostly topless with a makeshift bandage on his
neck, but...very clearly breathing, if only barely.

“Harry?” Sirius asked, not quite clear on what was going
on for a moment.

“I-is he...?” Harry stumbled. Alive? Was Snape not dead
after all? He was sure he was dead when he left him...

“Barely,” Sirius answered, giving the man's hand a tight
squeeze. “He needs medical attention, and quickly, Harry.
Please. I don't dare move him until a proper Healer has seen to
him.”

“Y-yeah, I...”

“I'll fetch Madame Pomfrey,” Ron said. A handful of
Healers arrived from St. Mungo's to help, and most of the critical
cases were taken care of, he thought, so he should be able to pull
her away. “You stay here with Sirius, mate.”

“Right. Thanks Ron,” Harry sighed, relieved. He didn't
want to leave Sirius's side now. And Snape – there was so much
he should say to Snape. After viewing the man's memories, he felt
completely different about him, and sure, he was still a bastard, but
he was a hero, too. And Sirius fancied him, so Harry was pretty sure
he and Snape were going to have to manage a truce. Harry only hoped
that Snape would be agreeable when he was well again. And why was he
letting his mind wander like this when Sirius was covered in blood?

“Sirius, are you...?”

Sirius offered a weak smile. “Fine, Harry. Tired is all.”

“The blood..?”

“Is all his,” Sirius looked down at the snarky Slytherin,
pale and clammy, but still breathing. There was that. “My
poor Severus,” he whispered. He couldn't stop himself. It
might be a bit strange for Harry, but he loved this man and he
couldn't keep those feelings contained under such dire circumstances.

*

An hour later, Sirius was pacing the halls of St. Mungo's, chewing
his nails, and looking every bit the madman he ever had, though
they'd managed to get him to change his clothes. Kingsley was with
him – even with the current atmosphere no one was comfortable
around a 'notorious killer' without an Auror guard. It was only a
matter of time until his name was cleared, but in the meanwhile he
had to suffer a babysitter if he didn't want a one way ticket back to
Azkaban.

It didn't help matters any that every time a Healer came around the
corner he attacked them with questions about Snape, whose innocence
was also rather in question, and for the moment they were both only
kept safe on Harry's word.

Today, Harry was a hero who defeated Lord Voldemort. Tomorrow he
could easily be stark raving mad, driven there by his battle with the
Dark Lord. The press was a fickle beast, so there was really no
telling. Sirius didn't care. As long as Severus lived, they could
hide out in Grimauld Place indefinitely. Sure, he wanted freedom,
sunlight, but he'd take being trapped in his family's ancestral home
as long as Snape was alive and well and trapped there right along
with him.

He was about to accost his fourteenth Healer when the pencil-thin man
held his hands up defensively. “We've done all we can,”
he told Sirius. “Your quick-thinking right after the wound was
inflicted is all that's gotten him this far, but whether or not he
survives this, I'm afraid that's up to him now. We will just have to
wait and see.”

Sirius appreciated the man's blunt answer, but he supposed his own
behavior and reputation were to blame for it. “Can I...?”

The Healer nodded. “But you must not disturb him. Rest
is the best medicine for him now.”

Sirius slipped past the man with the speed of a child given promise
of a new toy, and into the hospital room – which also had an
Auror Guard.

Harry, who had been half asleep on one of the sofas, sat up, “I
should thank you, you know, for taking such good care of him, and
all...”

The Healer shook his head. “I am a Healer, Mr. Potter, that
means it is my job to treat those in need of it, regardless of
politics or personal feelings. If the boy who defeated the Dark Lord
believes he is a good man, then the rest of us will simply have to
give him a fair chance, won't we? Now, if you'll excuse me, we've
all rather got our hands full at the moment.”

*

“You're still so pale,” Sirius whispered as he brushed
some hair away from Snape's brow. “And still too bloody thin,”
he added. In a hospital gown instead of his billowing black robes,
Severus reminded him very much of the gangly youth he remembered from
so long ago. He really needed some meat on his bones. 'Too busy
reading to remember to eat, no doubt,' he thought affectionately.
'When I win you over, I'll make sure to fatten you up, even if I
have to bake you cakes every day.'

Once allowed in Snape's hospital room, Sirius refused to leave it.
He only ventured from the bedside for those little necessities like
using the lavatory. He slept with his head hunched over the mattress
until Hermione transmogrified a surprisingly comfortable cot out of
the nightstand and some bed linens. He settled it mere inches from
Snape's bed, close enough that he could still hold the man's hand
when he couldn't keep his eyes open a moment longer.

It went on this way for weeks. Once in a while, Severus would open
his eyes or part his lips, but he didn't show any sign of being aware
of his surroundings. Even so, Sirius thought his color was improving
a bit with the regular infusions of blood replenishing potion, and as
the poison slowly started to work its way out of his system...or
maybe it was just wishful thinking. It was hard to tell. Sirius was
exhausted from his bedside vigil. Coffee was starting to taste like
water, and nothing else had much of any taste at all. He pushed
aside the tray of food that Harry had brought him irritably and
turned back to Severus.

Snape's lips parted and he whispered something. Sirius leaned
closer, though he doubted he'd repeat whatever he'd just said, his
lips were still moving.

“...Sirius Black,” Severus murmured.

“I'm here,” Sirius answered, giving his hand a squeeze.
“I'm right here, Severus.”

Eyes like obsidian slowly opened and stared at him.

Sirius smiled.

Severus tried to lift his hand, but couldn't make his arm lift more
than half an inch from the bedding. He limbs felt leaden. He could
barely furrow his brow without feeling dizzy and muddle-headed.

“Fancy that beard, don't you?” he rasped.

Sirius touched his unshaven face. “Don't like it?” he
asked.

“Makes you look...like a...vagabond.” Severus looked as
though he wanted to say more, but his throat was so dry that he
couldn't get out another syllable.

“I'll shave it then, if you say you love me.”

“Fool.” Severus couldn't say the word aloud, but he
mouthed it.

“I won't get rid of it until you say it,” Sirius
answered. “And you have to mean it.” He couldn't keep
the stupid grin off of his face. Severus must be out of the woods
now, surely. He was awake, talking (sort of) and looking at him like
he was a total git. But more importantly than his little obsession
right now was the man himself. “You should probably wait until
it's easier to talk though,” he teased. “Anything I can
do for you?”

Severus licked his dry lips to try to get the strength to say
something sarcastic, and Sirius was instantly to his feet. “Water!
Right. You must be thirsty. Of course.”

Severus found his lips quirk ever so slightly. He'd have to tease
Sirius about being a good wife when he was well enough to get out a
proper sentence again. For now though, he couldn't do much more than
lay there staring at the ceiling as the man tried to get liquid past
his lips. He only managed a few small swallows before the pain in
his throat became unbearable and he turned his head away from further
efforts, which also caused its fair share of agony. “Enough,”
he rasped. At least his mouth wasn't quite so dry for now. Speaking
was still agony. Each word made his throat muscles work and thus
protest, so he chose not to say anything at all.

Sirius looked positively haggard. 'Has he been sitting with me
this whole time? How long has it been?' From the state of
Sirius's beard, and given the fact when last he laid eyes on the man
he was cleanly shaven, he would have to guess several weeks had
passed.

It was an odd sort of miracle, being alive and in love again. Oh,
his heart hadn't forsaken Lily – she would always be with him,
but in 'dying', and with Voldemort gone, he found as he lay here in
agony that he'd finally made peace with it. He'd done everything to
atone that he could, now only Merlin could determine whether or not
that was enough to find him peace in the afterlife. Whatever time he
had left, he would live for himself – well, as soon as he got
out of this bed.

Sirius put the glass on the floor and sat on his cot, fidgeting.
Severus quirked his lips every so slightly again. 'Like an antsy
first year,' he thought. His fingers twitched, but he still
couldn't really make his limbs move. So much for reaching over to
him then. He licked his lips, tried to will words out of his throat.
“Go home, Sirius,” he rasped. “Rest.”

“I've been resting,” Sirius defended himself, patting his
makeshift cot. “Right here.”

“Liar.” The word only half made it past his lips, but
Sirius's wry grin told him that the man understood.

“That's quite the accusation, coming from you,” he
answered. “Promise me that you'll behave when I'm not here.
That you won't hex any of the nurses, or give the aurors a hard time.
We're both more or less under house arrest for the time being.”

Well, 'house arrest' beat Azkaban, at least. “As if I could,
even if I wanted to,” Severus answered, the words coming out so
raspy and garbled that by the end he regretted even having started
the sentence. Then Sirius smiled at him again and made every last
agonized syllable worth it. The man brushed his hair away from his
face, and leaned down to press a tender kiss to his forehead.

“Don't think you'll get rid of me so easily every time,
Severus. After a few hours of rest and a hot meal, I'll be right
back here again, watching you sleep.”

“Stalker,” Severus mouthed, not daring to try speaking
aloud again just yet.

“I prefer the term 'hopeless romantic', thank you very much,”
Sirius answered playfully, and all but skipped gaily from the room.
Sure, Severus still looked pretty shite, but he was awake, and being
sarcastic, and those two things were a very, very good sign.

To
Be Continued...
- 17
- 18
- 19
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Best Served Cold